Unspoken Words
by neko-nya
Summary: He'd always been told that the stars in the sky were all the unspoken words in the world; shining, sparkling, and waiting to be heard... D18 one-shot.


A/N: Just as an experiment to see whether or not it'll enhance the experience of reading this fic, please read this in a silent area (no music, tv, talking, etc)...

Unspoken Words

Their story ended in silence.

* * *

><p><em>He couldn't remember who it was that'd told him anymore, but he'd long been told that instead of the spirits of the departed, the stars in the sky were all the unspoken words in the world; shining, sparkling, and waiting to be heard. And when stars fell, leaving behind nothing but a brief memory of a streaking line of light, it simply meant that their messages had been heard. He liked to imagine that the reason for meteor showers was a criminal repenting for his crimes and confessing, or maybe there were lovers exchanging vows and secrets, or maybe everyone around the world just so happened to be listening very hard that night.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Beautiful…<em>

Was what he'd thought of the whole idea.

* * *

><p>Wholeheartedly, he believed in the theory, the idea, and the story. Because he'd seen it with his very own eyes the night of his confession, the shooting star that streaked across the sky, lighting up the velvet blue for a moment with its brilliant flames.<p>

But of course, it worked the other way as well. With their busy schedules, it wasn't all too uncommon for them to spend months apart, only rarely hearing one another's voice. He always figured that it bothered him more than the other, but he could've sworn that for every silent day that went by, the sky became more crowded at night.

He wondered how many stars were created from their unspoken words.

There was no comfort found in their silence apart, at least not for him. If anything, it felt thick and threatened to smother him in its overwhelming heaviness. The only reassurance he received from his silent time alone was that it wouldn't last, no matter how long it felt. It wasn't anything like that warmth and contentment he felt in their silence together. They could've been working on separate projects on opposite sides of the same room and he still wouldn't have been able to keep a smile off his face.

And that's why, after months of suffocative silence, when he received that call from the Vongola Tenth, it felt like the world had opened up and swallowed him whole. He felt like he was drowning with his eyes blurring and ears plugging up.

After that day, the world became muffled.

He felt like he was suffocating…

Choking on the soundlessness of the world.

* * *

><p><em>No…<em>

Was the monosyllable word he couldn't get out.

* * *

><p><em>He always believed that when the people close to him passed on, they'd do it the same way his father had. <em>

_Many, many years ago, he could still recall the smell of spring and the warmth of sunlight on his skin as he stood by his father's bed. The man, knowing that he didn't have very long left to live, had gathered the entire family together to relay his last words. He'd cried and begged his father not to go away, not to leave him alone, but the man merely shook his head and patted his head._

_Encouragements, expectations, admitting how proud he was, his hopes of the family and its new leader climbing up the mafia social hierarchy, all these things were put into words by the dying man. _

_There weren't any new stars in the sky the night he died._

_His father had left the world of the living with no words left unspoken._

* * *

><p><em>Goodbye…<em>

Was what he exchanged with his father that day.

* * *

><p>With those expectations of the world, that day, when he picked up that phone and was relayed the message; he was caught off guard, causing him to drop the device in shock. A moment later, he was on his knees, trembling hands struggling to pick it up again so that he could scream his denials into it, his rejections of reality, but all that came out was silence.<p>

It felt like the world had failed him.

But more than that, it felt like _he__'__d _failed, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Even now, his throat was choked and his voice failed him.

His body wasn't complying with his wishes.

He couldn't even get himself to cry at the death of his most beloved.

With the phone still on the ground, he stared at his shaking limbs, questioning how the world could be so unfair, praying that it was all a cruel joke, while on the other line, the Vongola continued frantically calling his name.

Their story had ended in silence.

There were no last words, no recordings, no unsent letters or messages.

Just silence.

And he didn't even know who to turn his anger towards.

He couldn't bear to look outside that night.

He couldn't bear to see how many new stars would appear in the sky.

* * *

><p><em>Don't go…<em>

Were the words he wanted to scream but couldn't.

* * *

><p>The next few weeks flew by in a blur.<p>

During the first few days, he was angry. He was angry because the guardian had gone in such a selfish way, because he'd left him with nothing: no words, no message; absolutely nothing. But most of all, he was angry because the Cloud Guardian had gone and left him _alone_.

But despite his anger, it quickly simmered down into grief, and by the time of the funeral, he could only stand there uncomfortably amidst the small crowd that mainly consisted of the Vongola family, his family and the guardian's subordinates. Even with his grief stricken mind, he still somehow managed to nod stiffly at all the condolences directed towards him. The casket had remained closed, much to both his annoyance and relief. And then when it came time to bury the coffin, being one of the few invited to attend, he could only follow along as they headed for a secluded little opening that overlooked the city that the guardian had loved so much. No words of remembrance were spoken, very little mingling was done, just the way the Cloud Guardian would've preferred.

It wasn't just a body they buried that day.

Along with the flower in his hand, he threw his broken heart into the grave as well.

Afterwards, standing there in front of the grave with a fresh bouquet of flowers in his hands, he decided to himself that that would be the first and last time he would visit the grave. Because unlike the other graves that he visited regularly, he had no confidence in being able to look at this name etched onto a headstone without losing himself.

* * *

><p><em>Sorry<em>…

Was what he wanted to say as he left the cemetery.

* * *

><p>Days later, the culprits were sought out and dealt with.<p>

And after that, life seemed to continue on as though nothing had ever happened.

Except for the fact that his world still remained pale and muffled.

Though he'd began doing all his paperwork again, and had continued sitting through meetings again, but as he sat there, he could only watch as their mouths moved. Like a weak radio signal, all he could hear was a low hum and a jumbled mess of tones. And whenever they asked for his opinion or judgment, he'd merely shake his head and request more time to consider everything. It wasn't the most effective solution, but it was the best he could make of a bad situation. He'd tried for the first few days to pretend that nothing was wrong, he tried to joke and laugh, but it didn't take very long for him to realize that he simply didn't have the energy to keep up the façade. And so, he settled for a professional front.

His men were worried about him. He continued taking care of them and working diligently as a leader since his family would always be his top priority, but everything else about him seemed to have changed. He never left the house voluntarily, and even when he did, he never stayed out longer than he had to. No one attempted to hide their concern just as he didn't attempt to hide his weariness. But whenever anyone voiced their concerns, he'd wave them off nonchalantly, convincing no one.

It was no secret that he looked as terrible as he felt.

There were bags under his eyes from sleepless nights, kept awake in the darkness by the overwhelming silence and the knowledge that outside, stars danced and twinkled mockingly in the sky. And in that cruel quietness, his mind would wander towards memories of happier times. But no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn't bring tears to his eyes; so he stopped trying.

His appetite had disappeared. He couldn't smell the sweet aroma that the dishes gave off. The freshly handpicked tomatoes looked dull and unappetizing, and the finely aged wine had somehow lost its sparkle and appeal. He'd sit there, utensils in hand, staring at the dishes that the chef had worked so hard to make before leaning back in his seat and giving up without ever having taken a bite. Then he'd apologize and leave the table without another word.

A part of him hoped he didn't appear quite as vulnerable as he knew he was.

But no matter how he tried to hide it, nothing seemed to work. His men tried to help but all their attempts proved futile. Their excessive consideration made him feel weak while reprimands only seemed to make things worse. Whenever anyone brought up the way things used to be, they'd somehow accidentally mention that forbidden name and his face would pale before retreating back to the sanctuary of his room with a stuttered excuse. He couldn't bear to think about the way things used to be, not when it only served to remind him of how things would never be again.

_Used __to_…somehow that'd become a keyword in his life.

He _used __to_ be loud and lively.

He _used __to_ look up at the sky every night.

He _used __to_ wolf down every last bite of his meal no matter how full he was.

He _used __to_ love the other with every bit of his being.

He _used __to _be all these things just like how the Cloud Guardian _used __to_ be alive.

* * *

><p><em>Come back…<em>

Were the words he wanted to tell that person who was no longer there.

* * *

><p>Then one day, the Vongola Tenth paid him a visit. His men must've filled him in on all the details of his condition because his usually thoughtful sworn younger brother was relentless in insisting that he leave the house for their meeting. In the end, they ended up holding their meeting at a restaurant in, what he considered to be, the middle of nowhere.<p>

While he understood that everything was being done for his sake and he appreciated the effort, he wished the entire world would just leave him alone.

When they met, they greeted each other as usual with an extra observation on how worn out he looked from the Vongola. Then at the dinner table, he tried his best to focus all his attention on the plate in front of him while the younger man studied him. It was a quiet dinner, much to his relief. But unfortunately, his relief was short-lived when the other suggested that they take a walk outside. He hesitated on the offer, realizing that it would be his first true time venturing outdoors since everything happened. The Vongola sensed his uncertainty and looked back with an expectant smile. Reluctantly, he followed.

Outside, the sun had set and the world had grown dark save for the dull lights illuminating their path in the garden.

It was the summer and the night flowers were in bloom.

But he couldn't smell their sweetness.

There were cicadas singing all around them.

But he couldn't hear their serenade.

The moon and stars were out and helping chase away shadows and the unknown.

But he couldn't see their brilliance; he didn't dare to.

As they walked, the younger man spoke softly of things he didn't hear. Though he attempted to appear focussed, all he could do was keep his eyes trained on his feet. At one point, he considered turning his attention upwards but quickly changed his mind as a flash of fear struck him. Eyes widening slightly and heart rate picking up, he inhaled shakily and continued staring at his shoes.

When had he become so afraid of the world?

Not only could he not bear to look up into the night sky in fear of seeing the stars, but he'd also become afraid of looking up into the day sky in fear of seeing clouds floating away, leaving him behind.

* * *

><p><em>I miss you so much…<em>

Were the words he hoped to someday convey.

* * *

><p>And it baffled him.<p>

How anyone could ever expect him to go back to normal when the closest comparison he could make to the whole ordeal was that the world had gone and torn his heart out from inside of him, and had simply left without even attempting to patch the hole back up? He was broken and hurting, and somehow, the world expected him to move on.

Pausing in mid-thought, he wondered to himself…did he hate the world? How could he hate the world that'd given him such a rare and wonderful gift? But then at that question, he remembered the cruel manner in which it'd taken back that very gift away from him. He then wondered if he regretted ever falling in love in the first place, but then the very thought made the guilt unbearable.

A little surprised, he couldn't help but note how enough time had passed for him to ponder all this without shrinking away, but at the same time, not nearly enough for him to do anything about it. And silently, he wondered if he even wanted to get over his grief.

After all, what would he want to see if the world was to grow bright and clear again?

What would he want to hear if the world was to become un-muffled again?

The person he wanted to see and hear the most was no longer there.

To his side, the Vongola smiled softly, ruefully, expressing his relief at the fact that he could still show such an openly sad expression. Then finally, he got down to business and stated the reason for his visitation aside from checking up on him. There was a favour he wanted to ask, a rather personal one that would be of help to someone that'd been dear to the Cloud Guardian. And that perhaps, the Vongola mentioned gingerly, in the process of helping, it'd help him get over his own grief. It was probably what the guardian would've expected to happen, the younger man added.

For a few moments, he considered losing his temper and telling the other that he had no intention of overcoming his grief. If anything, he wanted to wrap himself in the shroud of silence that he once hated if only to remind himself of the love he'd lost. He didn't want to get better. All he wanted to do was to be left alone to his sorrow if that was the only way to keep the Cloud Guardian close.

But right from the start, he knew it was a favour he wasn't capable of refusing, even if it meant flying to Japan. And so, swallowing all the angry words that had crossed his mind, he nodded his agreement.

* * *

><p><em>I don't want to…<em>

Was what he wanted to shout at the Vongola but didn't.

* * *

><p>The following week, he boarded his flight and left the continent for the first time since everything had happened. As the days went by, the world became more muffled. It was as though someone was slowly turning the volume down on everything around him. The flight announcements, the mandatory safety demonstration, and even the takeoff and landing went by unnoticed.<p>

In the airport, if it hadn't been for the sign that the man was carrying, he would've never noticed the escort calling his name. No conversations were exchanged as he was brought to the Vongola headquarters via car. The Tenth met them at the entrance, greeting him and noted how much worse he looked in comparison to their last meeting. A part of him couldn't help but appreciate the brunet's curt honesty.

The younger man looked unconvinced at the reassurances he gave and mentioned how emotionally taxing his upcoming task might be on him again. And for that reason, he was at liberty to change his mind at anytime. A little irked at being looked down on, it was his turn to be sceptical. His daily routines were already tiring enough, how could anything be more draining than what he went through every day and all of the constant reminders of what once was? Another thing he couldn't quite figure out was who he was supposed to aid since the Cloud Guardian had never been one for encouraging dependency. Even now that their leader was gone, his men were still carrying on with their tasks as before.

Still, he was a little envious of them.

Why couldn't the Cloud Guardian have gone and made sure that _he__'__d_ be alright in his absence?

* * *

><p><em>When will the hurting stop?<em>

Was the question he'd asked over and over again but never got an answer to.

* * *

><p>He sensed it before he actually noticed where the car had pulled into. In the back of his mind, there were little red lights flashing, telling him to call it quits and go home. The only thing stopping him was his stubborn pride and curiosity. Who could've possibly been so important to the Cloud Guardian that he not only drew the attention of the Vongola head but was also allowed to stay at the guardian's quarters?<p>

Stepping out of his car, he didn't hear the anxious questions that his men were voicing. Giving an offhanded wave, he stepped through the gates. If he was going to go through with this favour, he'd do it alone. But to be honest, looking at his own situation, he didn't have the least bit of confidence in himself. How could he help anyone given the state he was in?

Inside, the place looked exactly the same as the last time he'd visited it. The guardian's men had kept the place clean and spotless, cold and uninhabited. What was he even doing here? Despite wanting nothing more than to leave, he made his way down the hall reluctantly, each step harder to take than the last. His mind was cruelly conjuring up images he knew he wouldn't be able to see again, and that voice, those words he knew he wouldn't be able to hear again.

When he finally reached the end of the hall, faintly, he heard a voice.

"_Bucking __horse?__I__'__ll __bite __you __to __death.__"_

At those words, his head snapped up and all at once, the thin layer of glass that had surrounded him began cracking. His chest tightened when, instead of seeing the aloof brunet there, he saw a little yellow bird, sitting on its own and staring sadly back at him. Then without warning, his legs gave out and he collapsed onto his knees as everything became clear to him.

Of course, the only one who'd been dear to the Cloud Guardian and would've openly shown sadness and its feelings of loss and suffering would've been his bird, his only truly constant companion. But seeing it all alone now and with no one to follow, he finally understood what the world had known and accepted for months.

The Cloud Guardian really was gone for good.

_Kyouya…_

All those words he'd wanted to tell the other would forever be unheard.

_Kyouya…_

And finally, the glass he'd built around him shattered as one by one, tears began rolling down his cheeks.

_You can't be gone._

That slight turn of the head.

_I want to see you again…_

Those unmovable gray eyes.

_I want to hear you again…_

That amused smirk.

_I want to hold you again…_

That abrupt and violent greeting.

_Please come back._

That prideful, commanding voice.

_You can't just leave me here…_

That unshakeable calm.

_I loved you so much…_

He would never be able to experience any of it again.

_Please come back._

Fists balled up, he slammed them against the ground as he screamed and cried. It was all he could do to stop himself from tearing the room apart from rage at his helplessness.

Why hadn't he done anything before?

Why couldn't he do anything _still_?

Worriedly, the little yellow bird hopped over to him and cocked its head before pecking his fist gently, "herbivore, sad? Sad? Wait for bucking horse. Wait for bucking horse."

Slowly looking up at the creature, somehow, despite himself, he let out a choked laugh, understanding the younger man's train of thoughts all too well. After all, he'd gone and left behind a person who wanted nothing more than to hear his words again and a bird who spoke only his words, so it only made sense for them to comfort one another. It was so unfair, and yet so like the guardian to do such a thing that he couldn't find it in himself to get upset.

Wiping the tears away, he scooped up the bird in his hands and opened his mouth but the words wouldn't come out. He couldn't get himself to vocalize any of the thoughts he had earlier, so instead, he shook his head and cradled the creature gently against his chest, letting his tears fall and making no attempt to stop them.

* * *

><p><em>Kyouya…<em>

Was the name he kept chanting in his head as he knelt there.

* * *

><p>When he came to again, he sat up and realized that he'd fallen asleep. The sun had set and the bird was on the floor nearby, still asleep. Taking care not to wake the creature, he turned his head slightly to glance out into the garden.<p>

He couldn't help but wince at how brightly the moon illuminated the flowers or how loudly the cicadas seemed to chirp. Taking a deep breath, his eyes softened.

The place still smelt like the Cloud Guardian.

Then reaching over, he petted the bird softly. It opened its eyes wearily and looked at him curiously before shuffling a bit and going back to sleep. He smiled sadly, and noting once more the revitalization of the world around him, he followed suit.

* * *

><p><em>Don't worry, I'll take care of you from now on.<em>

Was the message he hoped the bird understood.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until a year later that he found himself able to do what he'd thought of as impossible.<p>

He stood there, looking over the city that the younger man had cherished so much. Despite his earlier decision, he somehow found himself back at the site where the guardian and his broken heart were buried. The sky was clear and he could see the velvet blue littered with stars. And flying above him was the little bird, singing a familiar anthem, perfectly in tune as it'd been trained to so long ago.

Sitting next to the headstone, he took a deep breath, "Kyouya…I hope you're not cold up here on your own…but I suppose the view makes up for it." Taking a deep breath, he looked out at the lights of the little city. "Hey, just for tonight, will you listen to me?"

A shooting star shot off into the distance.

He smiled softly, "grazie… Hey, Kyouya, did you know? Even now, I still love you best…I miss you so much…there isn't a day that goes by when I don't think about you…"

And as he confessed all the thoughts and messages that he'd kept bottled up for a year now, above him, one by one, stars began showering down.

* * *

><p><em>I loved you so much, still do, and always will...<em>

_Goodbye, Kyouya._

Was what he was finally able to tell the guardian that day.

* * *

><p><em>Until we meet again…<em>

* * *

><p>Nya~<p>

So did anyone read this in total silence? Did it make a difference? I was wondering if it added to the atmosphere of this fic since that's what I was playing around with for this fic. I was trying to give it a bit of a heavier, maybe even suffocative feel. Please let me know how that worked and what you thought of it! And as always, I'm sorry for the crap summary! This took awhile to type up because 1) writer's block, since finding the right words took longer than expected, 2) I couldn't seem to get into the mood, especially after watching a sitcom or Gintama, 3) my schedule's been rather hectic as of lately. But here it is! My experimental fic! Enjoy!


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